She laid on the blue velvet couch holding a glass of red wine. Her mascara, smudged from rubbing teary eyes, traced a black path down her cheek bones. Being good was never an easy task. People always compelled you to switch your honey to poison. A poison that kills them slowly. The poison of sharp spoken spells.
She had spit some of that poison lately and now hoped that alcohol could suppress her ache of being declared as a mean person.
Not everyone knew that being mean at times was a necessity and
Not everyone knew the trick of being as good as her.
'As far as I know you, you aren't mean at all. It's them who don't know how to differentiate between a mean and a self-centered person.' He lit his cigar and sat cross legged on the front sofa.
A broken pearl bracelet and some jasmine petals,bathed in spilled wine, messed the table glass.
'It has always been like this. The more you tried to be selfless, the more they crushed you under their feet. The more you stayed silent, the more they compelled you to insult.' She took a sip from the glass, coughed and rubbed her cold nose.
'You are sweet. You don't even know how to show up your anger. You are sweet to me.' He chuckled as he drew a puff.
'Don't forget that the sweeter it is now, the bitter it gets later.'
She winked at him and poured herself another glass of wine.
He pursed his lips in a half smile realizing that he was the next to be stung by her.
